


These Strange Times

by tminuseternity



Category: Generation Kill, Taken (TV 2002)
Genre: Aliens, Based on Taken (2002) miniseries, But not necessary to watch to understand this fic, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Canon, Science Fiction, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tminuseternity/pseuds/tminuseternity
Summary: “You’ve seen the briefing video, you know as much as I do. They can do incredible things. They’ve taken people through walls. They can make you see things that aren’t there. But I know all of you are up to the challenge. We’re about to fight an enemy the likes of which no soldier has ever fought before. I can’t tell you how it will go. But I can tell you this. You’re about to earn a place in history.”Bravo Two is preparing for the most dangerous mission they’ve ever been assigned. A top secret project brings them to rural North Dakota to await an alien craft. It’s hard to believe but a young girl with strange abilities and a family legacy dating back to World War Two tells them it’s more than just a bizarre training scenario. Their orders are to bring the craft down and investigate but when a civilian researcher disappears inside the operation turns into a terrifying search and rescue. Will they find the researcher? What awaits them in the craft? And will they make it out alive?
Relationships: Nate Fick/Ray Person
Comments: 11
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Welcome. This fic has been in my drafts for a while and I figured it's finally time to start posting. It is fully planned out and about half complete so far, so I'm hoping to have it all posted by the end of the year.
> 
> This story is based on the Steven Spielberg miniseries Taken, however you do not need to watch that before reading this. If you haven't watched it already I would recommend watching it after you read this fic (once it's complete of course) because it is a fantastic show. I actually got this idea because there's a soldier character who looks so much like Stark Sands in the later episodes that I actually thought it might be him after I discovered him through Gen Kill, so there you go.
> 
> There is a companion alien themed playlist to go with this fic, I will post that a bit later. The work is titled after the song of the same name by Fleetwood Mac. I may end up also posting companion gif/image sets on tumblr so you can check that out on amelancholyuniverse. First gifset here: https://amelancholyuniverse.tumblr.com/post/170598380313/youve-seen-the-briefing-video-you-know-as-much
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!

He hears the sound of gentle lapping waves before he sees anything. It’s hushed at first, like the lingering remnants of a dream, but it grows loud enough to drown out his own heartbeat thundering in his ears as they creep along. If Nate could close his eyes and forget everything until this moment he would never guess where he is, that there is no sand or seaglass beneath his boots and he’s in North Dakota, miles away from the nearest lake. 

A blinding light spears through the darkness a few feet ahead and Nate winces, bringing their procession around the craft to a stop. Now he can see the ground blackening as water pours from an opening in the hull, its flow renewed with each surge from inside. It’s as if the ship is a dying animal, trapped in a predator’s territory with blood pulsing from a raw wound. There’s no mechanisms or doors; the craft simply seems to open when it wants to, beckoning with its radiant light. That’s one thing that makes him pause—no dying thing should invite an enemy closer.

Not unless it’s planning one ultimate strike. And this is an _alien spacecraft_. There will be any number of untold horrors waiting for them inside. 

Nate approaches the light and his team gathers around him. All he can see through the opening is pure white. There’s shuffling footsteps then Mike comes out of the darkness on the opposite side of the opening. “The perimeter’s secure, sir.”

“Good.” Nate presses the call button on his radio. “We’ve found an opening.”

The colonel’s voice crackles back. _“Get in there, lieutenant. Keep us updated.”_

“Yes, sir.”

This is it. Nate checks the time and looks around at his team. The unnatural white light paints them in sharp relief, highlighting the wary determination on their faces. This is the most dangerous mission they’ve ever had and they all know it. 

Nate won’t let his nerves show. He needs to be a leader, needs to be everything he isn’t feeling right now so they have a chance to get through this. “Ready?”

The confirmations come in a low chorus of, “Yes, sir.” Nate doesn’t deserve their bravery, he knows he doesn’t, but he still takes a selfish second to feel proud. 

“We stick together. We move as fast as we can. Observe everything, admire _nothing._ And to be clear—do _not_ shoot Mary Crawford.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good luck,” Mike says.

Nate takes a deep breath and steps into the light.

There’s instant pressure like every molecule in his body is tearing apart, every cell exploding like overpumped balloons, and a noise grows in the back of his skull like a thousand furious wasps flying in close. A force pushes and pulls and stretches and rips through him, determined to shape him into something new, something unknown. It bruises him down to the marrow of his bones and only gets stronger the more he struggles against it.The blinding white sears his retinas so Nate does the only thing that makes sense.

He closes his eyes and lets the light take him. 


	2. A New Assignment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'The Corps won’t forget.' The words echo in his mind as he holds the end of his career in his hands. It’s a new assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know if there are any typos/errors/missed words etc. Kudos and comments are much appreciated!

In his heart Nate Fick knows what lies ahead of him.

Punishment.

He can read between the lines. It's as clear as the word _Confidential_ stamped across the folder in his hands. It's as plain as the words typed on the pages inside. Why else would his platoon and his men be given this assignment if not to see him dragged through the dirt?

He fucked up and this is what he gets for it. He’s paying the price now for doing what he thought was right during OIF, and he can’t help thinking there’s no winning here. Whether he obeys orders (useless, pointless, _dangerous_ orders) or not, he will always lose. All he can do now is survive this.

Griego will laugh when he finds out, which will be right after this meeting if the captain’s dumbfounded silence tells Nate anything. He doesn’t dare glance at Schwetje sitting next to him. Does he understand or will Griego have to spell it out for him? The warning comes back to him like a starving animal haunting the outskirts of his mind— _the Corps won’t forget, Lieutenant._ He’s choking on the bitter taste of that lesson now.

That's the point to all of this. They can't get rid of him so they'll humiliate him instead. Schwetje won't be joining them on this assignment and _that_ is the final nail in the coffin. Ferrando drew the battle line and Nate is alone on the other side.

He’ll remember this for the rest of his life—sitting, listening to the clock tick in the otherwise silent office with the end of his career as heavy as stone in his hands.

The effort it takes to speak is monumental and for a split second Nate fears his voice will crack. "And General Beers feels that we're the ones for the job? If I may ask, why not task an army unit stationed at Fort Ash?"

"He came to us, Lieutenant," Ferrando answers, his face impassive. Nate doubts that with every fibre of his being. He considers himself a decent liar but that's one area where he will always be outshined by command. "He needs the best recon team for this. You know just as well as I do that the National Guard has no force like ours."

The National Guard. As if the mission isn't insulting enough on its own. Nate's platoon was a key element in the invasion of a country in a war that has just begun. Now, instead of serving their country where they should be, they'll be stuck in the backwoods of America with reservists on this sham of a mission.

To anyone else it might sound like an honour, especially the way Ferrando sells it, but Nate knows that isn't his commander's intention. This is about the chance to get rid of their troublesome platoon leader and see him ridiculed in the process. It probably only took Ferrando a few calls.

"This project is highly classified," Ferrando continues. He leans forward and clasps his hand over his desk. "And it requires skilled men. I've assured General Beers that my Marines are up to the challenge."

Nate raises his chin and meets Ferrando’s eyes, which shine triumphantly behind their wall of blue steel. He won't let anything show. He won't give the man any satisfaction. Nate will do his job—emotions be damned.

"Of course, sir. We won't let you down."

Wynn closes the folder slowly, wearing the face of a man questioning his entire reality. It’s a welcome reminder that Nate isn’t the only Marine still capable of rational thought. He can always count on Mike for solidarity, even if neither of them know how to unfuck the situation. 

He’s speechless for the first time since Nate met him. “I—”

Nate sighs and deflates in his chair. He imagines telling twenty two Marines will go equally well, though he won’t need to imagine for long. He has to call a meeting with his men and he has no idea how he’ll explain any of this.

"I know."

"You--? _Shit_ , Nate. What—?"

" _I know_."

Nate closes his eyes. It’s strange that he wants to laugh but he can’t stop it. He laughs at the absurdity of it all, at the world, at his commander, at his luck, at everything, and when he opens his eyes Mike looks concerned. He should be, Nate thinks, and wonders if today is the day they’ll finally seize the chance to declare him unfit for command. It might even be a blessing.

The concern fades from his face, and now Mike looks unimpressed. "You done?"

"I think so." Nate sighs again, all the humour vanishing as fast as it struck. So much for the return to sanity. "What the _fuck_ , Mike."

But Mike has no answers for him. He allows Nate a brief respite and tells him, before he can be accused of dragging his heels, that they should go.

"I've received the details of our next assignment."

Every man in the room is solemn, hanging on Nate’s words and prepared to hear the worst.

"When are we deploying?" Brad asks. There’s a slight frown on his face, a determined set to his mouth.

Nate can see the question on each of their minds. When, not if. Answering it will be one of the hardest things he's ever done. He earned their loyalty and now he has to tell them that their next mission is a complete joke. He isn't angry. Not anymore. The fury that burned white hot through his blood when he sat in Ferrando's office is now gone but it left room for nothing in its wake.

"We're not going overseas," he says, watching the confusion cross over each face. "We'll be in North Dakota working with the National Guard."

After a moment of stunned silence the room explodes with a cacophony of questions.

"What the _fuck_?"

"The National Guard? You've gotta be shitting me."

"Very funny, sir—”

Nate lets the noise simmer. This is the best way to break the news—in bite sized chunks they can digest while he prepares to say the rest, because it only gets worse from here.

"The Guard is working with a civillian research group," he continues, and thankfully they quiet down before he has to raise his voice. He doesn’t want to say this twice. "—and they believe—"

The words are glued inside Nate’s throat, threatening to suffocate him on their thick webs. He hates the thought of hearing them come from his own mouth, in his own voice. He glances at Mike in search of strength but the gunnery sergeant has none to offer, only a grim look and a nod to the file in Nate's hands.

"Read it," he suggests.

It’s as good as any order. Nate opens the folder and reads: "After months of preparation based on the research of a trusted scientific group led by Doctors Chet Wakeman and Mary Crawford, the United States Army has formulated a plan to capture the vessel of an extraterrestrial life form that has been known to U.S Air Force Intelligence since 1947."

It feels like hiding, to keep his eyes on the words he just read, so he forces them up. Twenty two shocked men are staring at him and if it was any other time, any other circumstance, he might have laughed. All he can do is wait and wish that he could say, “April Fool’s.”

Poke speaks first, his words half laughed in disbelief. "What the fuck?" He looks around. "Am I tripping or did everyone hear that?"

His words break the spell. They start talking all at once and wondering out loud _what the fuck is happening._ Nate hears a litany of curses, including what he’s sure is a string of swears in Portuguese from Baptista, and a vehement _screwby_ or two. _Bullshit,_ they say, and he can’t disagree. 

Brad looks dangerously annoyed. "Let me get this straight. Our country is at war but instead of fighting we're supposed to hunt the boogeyman."

Nate doesn't say anything. He wants to treasure the time before Brad realizes it's his fault. It won't take long—he can connect the dots as well as Nate can.

"That’s Bigfoot, dude," Ray says with an almost manic grin. "Aliens are real." Half the platoon rolls their eyes. It doesn't surprise Nate that Ray is excited—it would be stranger if he wasn't. "Oh come on, open your brains, motherfuckers, they gotta have some sort of proof and I want to see some damn aliens. Sign me the fuck up, sir."

"Duly noted." At least someone sees a bright side to this, not that they have a choice. It does help, though, loosens the dense knot in Nate’s chest so it’s a little easier to breathe. "Shall I continue?"

"There's more?" someone mutters near the back of the group. It sounds like Trombley.

"To sum up," Nate says, "the Guard believes they can lure aliens to North Dakota and once they're done shooting them out of the sky they want us to recon the spaceship. All there is to it."

“Is that all?” Doc Bryan gripes. He’s just as sour-looking as Brad, if not more. The rest of them seem fixed in various states of dismay and Nate can’t blame them. It sounds insane and it is. They're being assigned to work with the reserve army for a man who believes he can play mousetrap with _aliens_. General Beers is either insane, gullible, or a volatile combination of the two.

"We leave in forty eight hours, and we'll be on our own. Just this platoon." Nate watches the realization dawn on them. That's the only silver lining of this sorry excuse for a mission—a break from command. No Schwetje, no Ferrando. The respite alone might be worth it.

"That's right, gents," Wynn says, cutting through the din. "Get ready to hunt some aliens."

_United States Army Document_

_Operation: Dropping the Dishes_

_Designation: Confidential_

_Mission Statement:_

_After four months of preparation based upon the research of a trusted scientific research group led by Drs. Chet Wakeman and Mary Crawford, the United States Army has formulated a plan to capture the vessel of an extraterrestrial life form that has been known to United States Air Force Intelligence since 1947._

_A citizen that has been vital to the efforts of this species has volunteered to take part in this operation. She will be escorted to a remote quarantined location in North Dakota where a company from the Army National Guard will intercept the species’ predicted attempt to retrieve her. An artillery unit will be ready to take down the craft upon arrival. The National Guard requires a skilled reconnaissance team to survey the exterior and interior of the craft and, if possible, remove any occupants alive and unharmed for further research purposes._

_Report to: General Michael Beers_


	3. Allie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It only gets harder to believe.

The drive from Fort Ash near Brinsmade to their AO takes two hours. Nothing Nate sees on the way suggests this is part of North Dakota he'll ever want to visit again. Everything is flat, barren, and dry, with occasional rock outcroppings to break the horizon. A few barns and roadside diners imply life but otherwise they could be driving through a ghost land.

The lead truck of the artillery convoy pulls off the main road up ahead, sending clouds of dust into the air. Every vehicle follows and pulls to a stop. When the dust settles Nate finally gets a good look at their AO, though there isn’t much to see.

They're on the property of a farmhouse that seems like it could disintegrate with a single wrong look. Its grey, rotting structure is punctured with holes like it was caught in a warzone and barely lived to tell the tale. Part of the roof is caved in and the outhouse at the back is little more than a shamble of wooden planks. There are only enough remnants of a fence to show there was one in the first place.

A large tent stands near the house between two trucks with cables running from it on the ground. Reservists mill about the property on guard but there isn't much to guard against; the nearest town is fifteen kilometers northwest and it was already evacuated. The Guard can’t tell the townspeople they’re expecting extraterrestrial visitors so they cited a non-existent toxic spill on the rail line instead. They stationed roadblocks at every point of entry and kept all civilians out.

Nate and his men start unloading their meager provisions from the vehicles. They stake a claim to a spot next to the road, far from the reservists' tents. They won't be caught dead anywhere near the Guard and Nate is comforted, if nothing else, by their predictability.

“Lieutenant Fick!” The leader of the convoy, Colonel Harris, calls him over. “This is General Beers and Dr Wakeman.”

"Sir. Doctor."

Beers isn’t at all what Nate expected. He cuts an imposing figure, his face shadowed by his cap in the afternoon sun and his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes are stern, unwavering in their assessment of Nate. Wakeman, on the other hand, looks every bit the scientist he is. He's in his early fifties and wears an ill-fitting suit despite the summer heat. Behind square glasses his eyes are curious.

"Good to have you with us, lieutenant," Beers says, though his tone is anything but warm and welcoming. "Your expertise will be invaluable. Let me introduce you to our guest."

"The brief mentioned a Dr Crawford," Nate says as he follows them into the farmhouse. "Where is she?"

"There was a change in plan,” Beers answers. “She won't be joining us."

Wakeman frowns but doesn't add anything.

The interior of the house is even more decrepit than the outside, which shouldn't be possible. An old patterned couch and a broken table is all that remains of whoever lived here. A thick, choking layer of dust covers the floorboards. Nate is careful not to lean on the banister as they go up the stairs, which groan under the weight of the four men. There is only a single doorway at the top and through it is a large bedroom.

Nate inhales a sharp breath of musty air when he sees her. Whatever he was expecting of the volunteer mentioned in the brief—she isn't it.

"She's a child."

And she looks helpless. 

A bizarre helmet engulfs her entire head in a silver egg. Despite having her senses cut off, the heart rate monitor she's attached to beeps with a steady pulse. She's calm. She's chained to a host of medical equipment with wires and tubes, including an IV drip. She looks out of place in her dirt streaked clothes and cleats, like she just walked in from soccer practice. 

Nate must have fallen into the twilight zone on the way here. That’s the only possible explanation. First it’s aliens, now they’re kidnapping kids. _What the fuck is going on?_ How long has she been here? Where are her parents? There’s no way she volunteered for this. Nate takes a deep breath and tries to keep cool. Anger won't serve any purpose here but to get him in trouble. He can’t do anything for her.

"She's a lot more than that," Wakeman says. He looks ready to dissect and she’s the unfortunate mouse trapped in his game.

Her head turns in their direction so at least she can hear them.

“Her name is Allie Clarke,” Beers says, as much for Nate’s benefit as Colonel Harris’s, who’s seeing her for the first time too. He studies her from his spot next to Beers, nodding and listening as though holding kids hostage is their modus operandi. Nate wouldn’t put it past reservists. "And rest assured, lieutenant. We have her full cooperation."

That does nothing to reassure him. If anything the general's choice of words confirm his suspicion that she was taken against her will. She wasn't prepared to be here. She was probably drugged. Nate eyes the IV line. She could have sedatives pumping into her bloodstream right now, which would explain why she's so calm. Any child in her place should be hysterical.

"What's with the helmet?" Nate asks. He needs a distraction from the unease plaguing his gut and the best one is to get answers. He knew this assignment would be far from the highlight of his military career but he didn't expect anyone else to be collateral damage—especially not a kid.

“Ah!” Wakeman perks up, eager to show off his expertise. “That’s the key to our whole operation. The helmet blocks Allie’s signal so our friends _up there_ —” he points to the ceiling “—can’t find her. Genius, eh? As soon as we take it off here they come like Allie’s knights in shining armour. Or grey armour, I suppose? They’re not green.”

Nate summons every shred of patience he can muster. “Her signal?”

The only thing Nate hates more than incompetence is not being in the know. The brief contained no details—it certainly never mentioned signals or helmets. Maybe it was to prevent information leaks, as Godfather said, but it feels like an intentional choice to keep him at the bottom of their totem pole. Knowing more wouldn't make him believe all this but at least he wouldn't have to feel like a dog at the side of a dinner table, begging for any scraps of information the adults were willing to throw down.

Nate is the outsider here. He can't forget that, and no one will let him. 

“When these beings take people they put an implant in their brain,” Beers explains with an edge of impatience that Nate ignores. “Shows up on scans like a small tumor. It gives off a signal so the people they take can be tracked and taken again. We know Allie is important to them so we’re betting as soon as they see her signal again they’ll come down to get her.”

 _Yeah,_ Nate nods to himself. They’re _delusional_. He’s willing to bet that he and Allie are the only rational ones in the room. He puts the pieces together. “So she’s been abducted. By aliens. And you think they want to protect her from you.” If any of this was real he could understand why.

“That’s the gist,” Wakeman says with a smirk, as self satisfied as a kid showing off a science project thinking it’s the best in the class. 

“I’ve heard conflicting reports about you, lieutenant,” Beers says, steering the conversation back to Earth. “If all goes well this will be your chance to prove the best of them true.”

Nate meets his scrutiny with a level look. He hates the thought of gossip about him transcending military branches, especially with Godfather involved, but he can’t dwell on it. He made his choices and he would make them again, even knowing they would lead him here. The opinions of the men under his command are the only ones he should care about. _Your leadership is the only thing I have absolute confidence in._

“A troublemaker, eh?” Wakeman looks delighted at the news. Nate’s opinion of the man seems doomed to lower every time he opens his mouth.

“Or the chance to prove us all fools, sir,” Nate tells Beers against his better judgement.

The risk pays off when Beers smirks. “Let’s hope not, lieutenant. If we land in the shit the president will be right there with us.”

“We’re calling the operation ‘Dropping the Dishes.’”

The reservists in Harris’ artillery squad exchange looks. It’s a small, petty victory for Nate to know he isn’t the least informed at this stage.

Harris is kneeling in the dirt in front of the Guardsmen and the Marines, the two huddles separated by a no man’s land of empty space. He points to the rocks that represent vehicles in his crude dirt diagram. “The three humvees equipped with missiles will be here, here and here, each with camo nets above them. The target, gentlemen, will be in the air and it will be big.”

Nate barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. The Guardsmen look confused but seem to be taking the colonel’s words seriously.

“We’ll set up observation posts here on the mountain for early warning,” Harris continues, either not noticing or not caring about their reactions. 

One of the reservists raises a hand to grab the colonel’s attention. “We’re going to try to take this thing down intact, sir?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Once we get it down, how do we find these guys?” 

“That’s where Lieutenant Fick and his men come in. They’ll recon outside, then a team will go in and find any occupants, dead or alive.” 

Harris stands to address the men. “Ain’t no room for mistakes here, gents. These beings can do incredible things. They’ve taken people through walls. They can make you see things that are not there. But I know all of you are up to the challenge. We’re about to fight an enemy the likes of which no soldier has ever fought before. I can’t tell you how it will go but I can tell you this—you’re about to earn a place in history. Dismissed.”

Nate is grateful they make it out of the colonel’s earshot before any of his Marines laugh.

"—whole wide universe and you don't _believe_ in aliens?"

"Nah, nah, I never said aliens. I said _UFOs_. People be claiming they see shit flying around in the sky? That's all bullshit. Just because they don't know what it is doesn't mean the white government doesn't."

At first Poke was only goading Ray as he mused theories of what might be _out there_ but now Poke is stuck in a semi-serious debate. Most of the men are listening and interjecting as they sit around with nothing to do but wait, and this fires Ray up even more. “ _Dude—_ ”

"Brah, I just want to know what they look like," Lilley says, sounding half-asleep out of pure boredom. "Shit, do you think they'd be like the ones in _Alien_? We'd be fucked."

"What the fuck, Lilley?" Garza chimes in, as offended as if Lilley was eating charms right in front of him. "We could take that shit."

The conversation devolves into chaos as they debate their chances of survival if they were aboard the _Nostromo_. There's a clear divide amongst them but a few, like Stafford, make points on both sides just to stir the pot. Nate watches and laughs with them as the conversation volleys around like a sports match but part of him is still wondering about the girl. He glances to the upper window of the house where a curtain hangs behind the broken glass.

"Hold down the fort," he tells Mike, who waves him off. After Nate returned from his first meeting with Allie, Mike took one look at his face and asked how bad it was. He sighed after Nate told him everything. 

"LT!" Ray calls before he's made it two steps towards the farmhouse. "One on one, single weapon combat, any of us versus the alien. Who'd win?"

They hang on his answer like it's important.

Nate pretends to think for a moment. "We could take it."

He leaves the group to the tune of their cheers, fighting a smile as he enters the dingy farmhouse. The shadows inside the house are different, changed with the late afternoon glow. It feels ancient, like he's standing among the bones of something that should long be dust by now. It'll be spooky at night, and the thought of the girl being in here on her own dampens his mood. Her room is guarded but a strange soldier standing at her door won't be much comfort.

The guard doesn't stop Nate from entering or say anything at all. He seems to be there more to keep the girl in than to keep people out.

She hasn't moved since he was here earlier, though she can’t go far with all the medical equipment she's attached to. Her head turns towards his footsteps and even with the helmet blocking her face Nate feels the discomforting weight of being watched.

"Hi." Her voice is muffled but her words are clear enough to understand.

"Hi." Nate grabs a rickety old chair from the other side of the room and sits in front of her.

"You were here with General Beers." 

"I was. My name is Nate. I just want to talk if that's alright."

"You want to know why I'm here." She leans forward. She must be happy to have someone to talk to. He doesn't know how long she's had the helmet on but he can imagine even after a day of wearing it anyone would be eager for company.

"Yeah, I do."

"You won't believe me."

"I doubt you can tell me anything crazier than what I've already heard today."

"But you don't believe what you've heard. You don't think they're real."

Is he so obvious that even she can already tell? "Aliens? No, not really. Do you?"

"Yes,” she answers instantly. “But I've never met them."

That's not what the general led him to believe. Neither he nor Wakeman corrected his assumption that Allie had been abducted by aliens before—as much as he's humouring what they say. Even thinking that it could be possible makes him feel like he's losing his mind too. "Then why are you so important?"

She shrugs. "Maybe I'm not, but I think people like having something to believe in. It doesn't really matter what it is." She shouldn't sound so wise for someone so young.

"Do you believe they'll come to get you?"

She twists the fabric of her shorts in her hands. "I don't know."

She's just a kid, no matter how perceptive she is or how special. She didn't ask for this. She doesn't deserve this. "You must be scared,” he says. “I think I would be if I was in your shoes."

"I am, a little. I miss my mom."

Nate takes one of her hands and squeezes it gently. Her head lifts as if she can see him through the helmet. "I can't do much, but if there is something I can do to help you just tell me."

“I...don’t want to be alone,” she confesses. “Will you read to me? There’s a bookshelf over there.”

There’s a lone book on the bottom shelf of the broken bookcase near the door. He picks it up and shakes it to dispel the dust. It's an ancient, battered copy of Treasure Island. Allie sits with her hands folded in her lap. There's nothing for it—it's now his duty to tell her a story.

Nate reclaims his seat. "Part one," he recites, "the old buccaneer."

When General Beers enters the room later, just as the light is starting to fade, Nate is still reading from the first chapter.

“‘On stormy nights, when the wind shook the four corners of the house and the surf roared along the cove and up the cliffs, I would see him in a thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical expressions. Now the—’”

"Lieutenant," Beers says, wearing his default displeased expression. He's flanked by Harris and Wakeman, who's visibly brimming with excitement. "You're already here. We're taking the shield off."

This is it. If they’re right a spaceship will be overtaking the sky above them very soon. Their anticipation is palpable in the room and everyone’s eyes are on Allie as Wakeman stoops in front of her. He reaches around her head to unclasp the buckles holding the helmet together. “It’s not very bright in here but it may hurt your eyes at first.”

“Okay,” she says. 

He removes the helmet, revealing her to the world. Her pale, cherubic face is framed by wispy blond hair and her wide, blue eyes blink as she adjusts to the light. She studies the men watching her, looking at each in turn until her eyes finally rest on Nate. 

"Ready your men, lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." Nate leaves the book on the cot next to Allie's chair. She can read it on her own now but her face still falls.

"And now," Wakeman proclaims, "we wait."


	4. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate's dreaming—he must be—because the lights flying towards him can’t be real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated :)

“Maybe they ran out of gas.”

Nate smiles at the unexpected joke. They’ve been sitting in the dirt for over two hours in an easy silence, watching the sky and waiting for something to happen for the second night in a row. He’d accept anything at this point just to cure the boredom.

They were on high alert for six hours after Allie’s helmet was removed. Beers allowed them to stand down when he finally conceded that nothing was coming but he doubled the usual night watch just in case. Now Nate and his men share the burden of watch duty.

“Maybe,” Nate muses. He can see all of the farmhouse property from their vantage point on the hill. A few lanterns are set up, and the beam of a flashlight bounces as someone walks across the camp, but otherwise the land is dark.

He forces his eyes back to where he’s supposed to be looking—the sky. It’s clustered with stars the way a city sky can never compare to. That’s where the threat would be if it’s real but Nate feels the safest he ever has on a mission. He’s in his home country surrounded by nothing on all sides. Keeping his guard up is a Herculean effort. 

In some ways he’s reminded of Iraq. He’s sitting here, watching, waiting and debating the intelligence of his commanding officer. In other ways—the best ways—it’s nothing like Iraq. Zero sign of danger, no civilian casualties. Allie is the only prisoner and she’s luckier than many Iraqi children.

“He must be shitting his fucking pants by now.” Brad looks as concerned about the apparent incoming threat as Nate feels. He’s not even pretending to survey the sky. “It’s been over twenty four hours.”

“He’s not happy.” Beers has been storming through the camp since last night, alternating between checking surveillance equipment and grilling Wakeman for answers the scientist doesn’t have.

It seemed prudent to Nate to be on watch while he fumes about, threatening everyone in his path.

“I almost wish something would happen just to shut Ray up.”

Nate can’t stop his smile but he doesn’t have to hide it in the dark. “I think aliens showing up would have the opposite effect.”

Brad heaves a long-suffering sigh. “You’re probably right.”

“Is he still spouting that shit about amphibians from Sirius?” The entertainment value from Ray’s theories alone almost make this entire exercise in patience worth it. _Almost_.

“No, he’s moved onto a more reasonable topic—the possibility of alien life coming from Alpha Centauri.”

Nate expects him to laugh at the idea but instead Brad looks thoughtful. “Please tell me you’re not buying into his extraterrestrial nonsense.”

Brad looks at him and says, with a straight face, “It _is_ our closest planetary system.”

“Alright, now you’re just fucking with me.”

Brad finally does laugh at that, but he’s not done trying to convince Nate because he adds, “Ray makes a valid point.”

“Seriously?”

“Not about amphibians from the stars and ancient tribes worshipping alien cock, but...don’t you think it’s a waste of space?”

Nate stares at him. Of all people he wouldn’t expect for _Brad_ to ask him that. And he’s never had the question posed so simply before, so black and white. Either there is or there isn’t alien life, somewhere _beyond._ It doesn’t matter if they can’t see or can’t meet it yet, but does it exist?

“I don’t know,” he answers. He’s never had to look much beyond his own life to discover questions he couldn’t answer or problems he could never even begin to solve. 

When Brad speaks he’s contemplative. “Glowing crops won’t convince me. People claiming they were abducted and probed will never convince me. Cereology is hippie bullshit. Hell, the president could say he was abducted and I wouldn’t believe it...But our ignorance of the universe outweighs our knowledge of it. We can be damn sure of that.”

“It’s been over thirty six hours and we’ve got _nothing._ Not a _god damn_ thing. No results. Nothing from NORAD. Has there been any change with the little girl?”

One of the technicians throws a nervous glance over his shoulder. “No change, sir.” His screen displays a live visualization of Allie’s brain activity monitored by the electrodes taped to her head. “EEG is normal.”

Beers directs his ire towards Wakeman who stands next to him, looking at all of Allie’s data with a frown. “You want to tell me what the _fuck_ went wrong?”

Wakeman shrugs carelessly and the general’s mouth tightens in anger. Patience is hard to find when dealing with the scientist but in this case Nate doesn’t know what else he could’ve done. They had a plan and it failed.

“We’re talking about aliens, General,” Wakeman says. “By definition their motives and everything are, well, _alien._ ”

“They’re not coming, are they,” Beers says. It’s less a question and more a statement of their current standing. They’ve been waiting around for two days and no aliens have dropped by to say hello.

“I told you she was powerful. Maybe they’re not worried about her. Maybe they think she can fight her own battles.”

Nate frowns and glances between them. _Powerful?_ Allie is a nine year old girl. He doesn’t bother asking. There’s only one person who might give him answers—Allie herself. Even then... _You won’t believe me._

The flap of the tent flies open and a woman storms in followed by two reservists. She’s dressed in a suit and each step she takes towards them is self-assured. She’s young, younger than Nate expected, because he knows this can only be one person. 

“You don’t know when to quit, do you,” Beers demands, hands on his hips. This day is only getting worse for him. “You told my men at the road block you had information?”

Doctor Mary Crawford smirks. “I lied. You _bastard,”_ she hisses at Wakeman.

The scientist’s eyes widen behind his glasses. “Mary, I had no _choice—_ ”

“You thought you could take this project away from me? Away from my _family_? This is my _life’s work_ , Chet—!” She raises her arm but Wakeman catches her wrist before she can land a blow, and the general’s men quickly restrain her.

“Put her in the truck under guard,” Beers says, waving them away. He looks amused for the first time in two days. He says to Wakeman, “I’d advise you not to take your work home but you already did.”

“Women,” Wakeman mutters and leaves the tent.

“Tell your men to keep an eye out for her, lieutenant.”

“Why was she removed from the project? Does she pose a threat to Allie?” Nate knows he’s treading on the fringes of Beers’ patience but he has too many unanswered questions. He can’t keep ignoring all of the missing information. This is his _job_ , this is what he knows.

“She’s impulsive. That makes her dangerous.” Beers gives him a stern look. _No more questions._ “Inform your men.”

"Thanks for keeping me company."

"Technically, I'm on guard duty."

"Then I'm glad you're my guard." Allie smiles, and Nate can't help but reflect a smile back to her.

He closes the book with the page marking the start of chapter four dog-eared for tomorrow. They might be able to get through the entire book by the time General Beers decides to call it quits. "Are you enjoying the story?"

"Yes, but I didn't expect the sad parts."

"Neither did I. I've never read it before." It's one of those books that's been on his list to read for years but he never seemed to find the time.

"Are _you_ enjoying it?" she asks.

"I am."

She seems satisfied with his answer, like his enjoyment is more important than her own, and it’s the last thing he would expect of someone in her place. He's not sure if he'll ever understand the way she thinks.

Nate checks his watch. The guardsman who's supposed to take over for the night is late, just like yesterday. He goes to the window to peer behind the curtain and looks across the camp. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.

"Why is Miss Crawford here?"

Nate turns back to her. "I don't know." On the surface it appeared to be a simple lover's quarrel with Wakeman. She's been guarded in the truck since she burst in but she never protested; in fact it almost seemed like it was part of her plan. She's waiting for...something. "Have you met her?"

Allie nods and folds her arms close to herself, making her appear even smaller. "She scares me. She does...bad things.”

“Has she hurt you?”

“Not exactly.” She loses her nerve to continue and shakes her head as if to ward off bad memories. As much as he wants to get a full picture of what led Allie here he doesn’t want to press her for answers. Her comfort is more important.

The guardsman shows up at the door so Nate leaves the book on her table. “We’ll continue tomorrow, okay? Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight,” she says, and Nate is almost at the door when she calls his name.

“Yeah?”

“You made the best choices, and you always will. I think you should know that.”

Nate stares at her, lost for words. It sounds like—but that’s impossible, she can’t know what he’s done. Still, it feels like she looked inside his soul and saw the places where the light no longer reaches, saw every moment of doubt or regret. Why else would she say that?

But that’s _impossible_.

“What are you…?” he starts, but the words fall into a whisper and she doesn’t offer anything else except another bid goodnight.

"Have you figured her out yet?"

Nate is so lost in the memory of Allie's words that he doesn't realize Ray is awake until he asks the question. He's comandeered the backseat of one of the open humvees for his bed and his face is enshrouded in darkness.

"Figured her out?" he asks, keeping his voice quiet. Most of the Marines are already asleep or trying to be. "Do you know something I don't?" He grabs a blanket from the supplies in the back of Ray’s humvee. It's all they were given to make beds but in the summer nights they're more useful as pillows.

"I might," is all Ray answers. Nate knows that much is possible. Allie adores Ray, gets stars in her eyes whenever he's around, so she might have told him something she hasn't shared with Nate. He's the only Marine besides Nate who volunteered to guard her and Nate never expected to see how effortlessly good he is with her, cheering her up with outrageous stories and soothing her when she's homesick. 

"Witholding information from your commanding officer is a bad idea," Nate says, mostly to maintain the appearance that he's taking this seriously but a small part of him is interested. Ray is beating around the bush to build his anticipation and despite the obvious tactic it works. Combined with what Allie told him, Nate is only getting more curious.

Ray makes a soft, amused noise. "Nah, you won’t believe it. You seem like a 'seeing is believing' kind of guy."

There’s no point denying that. Even Allie said almost the same thing. He hasn’t seen much since they got here but he's heard enough to know he doesn't have the full story. Before he can think of a response his attention is drawn to a commotion in front of the farmhouse. General Beers is on the porch steps wrestling something from Mary Crawford's grip that shines in the warm glow of the lantern lights. He shouts a barrage of questions at her but she’s too distracted to answer.

Nate follows her gaze to the horizon where two bright stars are hanging low.

Except they're not stars because stars don't move like that, like they're coming closer.

"Who knows, man, maybe we'll see some—"

"Ray, _look_." Nate doesn’t breathe. _This can't be real, this isn't happening, this can't happen—_

He leaves the cover of the camoflauge net and Ray scrambles out of the humvee to follow.

There are more of them now, bright discs of light shooting in from all across the night sky, and they start to gather above him. Countless spheres of pure light circle in and around each other like a swarm of summer flies, drowning out the constellations with their white, angelic light.

Nate is dreaming. He _has_ to be. This can't be real, it has to be a dream, a nightmare, _anything—_

But he looks at Ray and knows it's real because Ray is staring at them too, his face awash with childlike wonder.

They're here. They're _really_ here. They came to save Allie.

The lights gather into a ring and in unison they start to shine brighter until it's too intense to look. Nate shields his eyes and for an agonizing moment there's so much light he could be standing on the surface of the sun. When the glow behind his eyelids fades he opens them. Hovering in the darkness above is a giant, alien craft.

He's never seen anything like it before. Not in movies or on television—nothing can compare. The disc feels close enough to swallow him right off the ground, obscuring the sky and stretching across his vision. Its belly glows with mystical patterns of white lights and a ring of fire orange beams in the center.

It's incredible. Unbelievable. _Beautiful_.

Chaos explodes around Nate.

That's right—they had a plan for this. This was _supposed_ to happen. Now they need to take that thing out of the sky and see what's inside.

"All armoured units prepare to fire!" Colonel Harris runs past Nate, shouting into his radio. Around the camp, engines roar to life and mechanic clanging sounds as the missile loaded trucks move into position, their launchers lifting towards the heavens.

In the buzz of activity Wakeman and Crawford find each other, joining hands as they gaze adoringly at the craft. Beers has abandoned his spat with Mary to run around directing his men.

Nate looks to his platoon. They're all wide awake now, looking to him for direction. No one expected this, not even Ray who wanted it the most, and they need something to fall back on. "Get ready," he says. With that they burst into action like they were born for this day, grabbing weapons and helmets. Nate grabs his own and directs them to the edge of the camp to wait.

" _FIRE_!"

The cry rings through the night. Missiles leap into the sky with booming echoes, hurtling towards the craft and staining the night with trails of smoke. The craft is an easy target and none of the munitions go to waste. The first missile explodes into the craft's underside in a thunderstorm of fire and the rest quickly follow suit. The patterns of light flicker out and die, section by section, until the whole ship is a burning black beast in the sky.

Nate's heart stampedes in his chest as he watches.

_"Cease fire!"_

The ship is falling. Dead weight drags its body north of the camp, and it narrowly misses their AO but the shock it sends through the earth on impact is more than enough to knock everyone to the ground.

Nate coughs the dust from his lungs as he gets back to his feet. The giant disc is now an oppressive black mass on the ground, a mighty creature reduced to nothing but a hunk of metal and a cloud of dust. It's close to the farmhouse which remains miraculously intact, so close to the reason it's here. Nate glances at the dimly lit eye of Allie's room. He can't imagine how terrified she must be.

Everyone seems to be holding their breath. Was it that simple? Did they succeed in taking down an alien craft in only a few minutes? The inert mass on the ground is their answer. Beers holds up his hand. _Wait_. For three disquieting, anxious minutes, nothing happens. The craft is truly dead.

But what about its occupants?

A shiver sinks down Nate's spine. With the craft on the ground the reality of the situation is more immediate than when it hovered amongst the stars. He's going in there. He's taking a team into that ominous darkness with no idea what to expect inside.

Beers calls him but Nate only makes it two steps before a light bursts from the hull, penetrating the dark with a shimmering shock of cold white. Every man draws his weapon, aiming towards it with bated breath.

Any second now.

Nate bites his lip so hard he can taste the blood blooming into his mouth, and his hands twitch ever so slightly on his gun.

Something will come out of the ship and—what then? The living specimens Beers wants may be an unachievable dream if they find themselves under attack.

"MARY, _NO_!"

Mary Crawford breaks from the man’s side and sprints towards the craft, her coat flapping behind her like a set of wings. Her arms are wide open as if she's ready to welcome home an old friend.

_BANG_!

The bullet zips through the air and misses its target. Before Beers can fire another, or bark out an order to shoot her down, the light swells and envelops her into its radiance. Her figure dissipates and so does the light, leaving the ship dark once more.

"DAMN IT!" Beers turns on Wakeman with righteous fury. "Your girlfriend just compromised this entire operation!"

For once the scientist is at a loss for words as he gapes at the spot where Mary disappeared. He can't ignore that Beers is right but he can't defend her either.

"FICK! Set up a perimeter and once you find another entrance take your team inside. And if you see Crawford—" he casts a dark look at Wakeman—" _shoot her_."

Wakeman finally breaks his silence to protest that order but Nate doesn't stick around to listen. "Yes, sir," he says, and returns to his men.

"I need five volunteers to go in with me." Nate would go in alone and take all the risk if he could but Beers would never allow it. The threat is real now, looming there in front of them, and he'll need a good team to have any chance of success.

Ray is the first to volunteer, and it's no surprise that Brad raises a hand next. Where one of them goes the other isn't too far behind. Walt, Poke, and Doc Bryan also volunteer, completing the team.

Nate directs Mike to lead one half of the platoon around one side of the craft and he leads the remainder, including his team, around the other side. There's no door where Crawford went in but maybe another opening will appear. There's only one way to find out. They walk in single file around the craft, establishing a perimeter as they go. Each step Nate takes is measured, cautious, and he watches for any sign of life from the craft's walls. He won't have the luxury of familiar ground for much longer and he wants to savour it while he can.

He hears the sound of gentle lapping waves before he sees anything. It’s hushed at first, like the lingering remnants of a dream, but it grows loud enough to drown out his own heartbeat thundering in his ears as they creep along. If Nate could close his eyes and forget everything until this moment he would never guess where he is, that there is no sand or seaglass beneath his boots and he’s in North Dakota, miles away from the nearest lake. 

A blinding light spears through the darkness a few feet ahead and Nate winces, bringing their procession around the craft to a stop. Now he can see the ground blackening as water pours from an opening in the hull, its flow renewed with each surge from inside. It’s as if the ship is a dying animal, trapped in a predator’s territory with blood pulsing from a raw wound. There’s no mechanisms or doors; the craft simply seems to open when it wants to, beckoning with its radiant light. That’s one thing that makes him pause—no dying thing should invite an enemy closer.

Not unless it’s planning one ultimate strike. And this is an _alien spacecraft_. There will be any number of untold horrors waiting for them inside. 

Nate approaches the light and his team gathers around him. All he can see through the opening is pure white. There’s shuffling footsteps then Mike comes out of the darkness on the opposite side of the opening. “The perimeter’s secure, sir.”

“Good.” Nate presses the call button on his radio. “We’ve found an opening.”

The colonel’s voice crackles back. _“Get in there, lieutenant. Keep us updated.”_

“Yes, sir.”

This is it. Nate checks the time and looks around at his team. The unnatural white light paints them in sharp relief, highlighting the wary determination on their faces. This is the most dangerous mission they’ve ever had and they all know it. 

Nate won’t let his nerves show. He needs to be a leader, needs to be everything he isn’t feeling right now so they have a chance to get through this. “Ready?”

The confirmations come in a low chorus of, “Yes, sir.” Nate doesn’t deserve their bravery, he knows he doesn’t, but he still takes a selfish second to feel proud. 

“We stick together. We move as fast as we can. Observe everything, admire _nothing._ And to be clear—do _not_ shoot Mary Crawford.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good luck,” Mike says.

Nate takes a deep breath and steps into the light.

There’s instant pressure like every molecule in his body is tearing apart, every cell exploding like overpumped balloons, and a noise grows in the back of his skull like a thousand furious wasps flying in close. A force pushes and pulls and stretches and rips through him, determined to shape him into something new, something unknown. It bruises him down to the marrow of his bones and only gets stronger the more he struggles against it.The blinding white sears his retinas so Nate does the only thing that makes sense.

He closes his eyes and lets the light take him.


	5. The Belly of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earth is left behind and the cost of getting his men out of this nightmare in an unknown that lurks at every turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all you lovely readers had a wonderful Christmas if you celebrate and happy holidays to anyone who doesn't. Here's an extra little gift for you, I hope you enjoy it!

Nate opens his eyes. 

He's alone.

Earth is gone and there's nothing around him but empty space and an ocean of crystal clear water up to his knees. It stretches into the distance where white and water blur together in a haze. No matter which way he turns everything looks the same. Even the opening he came through has vanished behind him. There's no turning back now.

Nate takes one slow step, then another. The water’s resistance fights against him and the surface breaks into ripples. He dips his hand into the water. It looks real. It _feels_ real. _They can make you see things that are not there_ the colonel said, but can he still trust the rest of his senses? Can they make him _feel_ things that aren’t there? Where does their influence end?

He looks around again. Nothing has changed. There has to be more to the ship than this, something beyond this emptiness. Doctor Crawford is in here somewhere and so are the beings who flew the craft.

_Unless…_

Unless he didn’t suvive the entry. He’s dead and this is the afterlife. It sure looks like one. _No._ Nate forces the thought from his mind. He’s not dead. He’s still breathing even if each gulp of air feels more suffocating than the last. _Don’t panic._ He can’t panic yet.

"Is anyone here?" Nate’s voice echoes into the expanse. If there's anything in here with him—well. For better or worse he's made his presence known. 

All he can hear is his own breathing, then—

_Splash._

The sound is faint but clear. He scans his surroundings again but there’s still nothing in sight.

_Splash._

Another one, then another. Continuous now, getting louder. Closer. Something is coming towards him. He turns. He looks. His gun is aimed at nothing and his pulse spikes into overdrive. _What is it? Where is it?_ Something is getting closer—

The splashing echoes thunder around Nate—

He spins.

Nothing.

It’s quiet. The only waves in the water are the ones he’s made.

_Splash._ Behind him.

“Whoa, fuck! Don’t shoot, it’s me!”

Relief floods Nate so fast his knees buckle and he lowers his gun. He’s never been so glad in his life to see Ray.

“Alright, sir?” Ray asks. He’s appeared out of thin air a few feet away. With any luck the rest of the team will do the same but if not at least Nate isn’t alone anymore, left wondering if he’s even still alive.

Nate heaves a deep breath and his pulse slows to normal. He shakes his head. “It’s nothing, I...thought I heard something.” 

Ray looks doubtful. “There’s nothing in here.” He kicks through the water like it can give him answers.

"We don't know that, Ray." It's strange how the white space is so empty yet feels like it’s going to infect his lungs every time he speaks. He’s almost afraid to open his mouth for fear that something he can’t see will burrow into his body and never leave. 

A splash sounds to their right. They both raise their weapons but it’s only Poke standing there, examining the white nothingness with distrust. “I don’t know about you guys but I was expecting less Jesus land, more Star Trek. Where are the aliens?”

“I’m sure we’ll find them.” And they won’t be as dead as Nate was hoping for. If what they’re seeing isn’t real then the aliens are alive in here somewhere, manipulating them like puppets. 

The radio clipped to Nate's vest bursts to life, echoing an ominous static into the expanse.

"This is Fick, how copy? Colonel Harris, do you copy?" No voice comes through, only the same buzzing static. They’re on their own.

Doc Bryan is next to show up and he looks around the emptiness with a grim face. “What now, sir?”

“There has to be somewhere to go,” Nate says, to remind them as much as himself. “Something we’re not seeing, or Mary Crawford would be here too.” They can’t wait here, no matter how hopeless it looks.

Brad doesn’t say anything when he appears. He takes in his surroundings with a frown, scanning the space just as Nate had. He doesn’t have to speak for Nate to know what he’s thinking—there is nowhere to go, and that’s not a good sign. 

Finally Walt shows up, stumbling into the water. At the same time something shimmers in the distance.

“Sir,” Brad says.

“I see it.”

Nate looks around but nothing else has changed, only that one spot in the distance. He can’t tell what it is beyond a grey blemish in the canvas of white, hovering a foot or so above the water. It’s the best—and _only_ —starting point they have.

"Follow me. Brad, you take the rear." 

Nate sets off through the water. The spot is closer than it seemed and in a few minutes he can see that it's an X-shaped opening in the white space, a rip in the illusion to show the real ship beyond. Through it is a hallway, with smooth, metallic walls curving inwards. 

When he steps up into the hallway his boots are dry. Even though he doubted the water was real seeing the truth so abruptly raises the hair on the back of his neck. There are beings in here that can and will control their experience. There’s no telling what they’ll do with that power. The roles of predator and prey are reversed now and Nate’s team is on the losing side. 

The air in here is even more stifling and the walls are oddly warm. Despite the heat a shiver trickles down Nate’s spine. He feels like he’s invading the body of a living, breathing creature and it’s watching every move he makes. 

The seams where the walls meet hold long panels of light. Their glow undulates from bright white to pitch black, moving hypnotically down the hall as if to guide him further into the ship’s depths. Another unsettling sign of life. 

Nate waves his team through the opening. It’s no safer than before but they have a chance to discover something in here—whether that’s Dr Crawford, a way out, or something else. After Brad comes through last the opening disappears in a blink like it was never there. Empty hallway now stretches both behind and ahead.

Nate leads them forward with as much confidence as he can fake. They move quick and quiet, making no sound aside from the soft thumping of their boots. At the first fork in the path Nate leads them right. After two more turns the hallway starts to curve left and his line of sight is limited. Each step is careful, his gun at the ready, then he sees something that sends fear spiking through his veins.

“ _Get back._ ”

They flatten against the wall as close as they can.

It was barely a flicker but he’s sure he saw something moving in the glare of light on the opposite wall.

It could be Mary Crawford down the hall.

It could be something else. 

Nate’s heart is lodged in his throat. They can’t linger. He has to investigate.

The lights fade off and on, and now there are two shadows in the glare, stretching along the curve of the wall. It’s not Mary Crawford. Not unless there are two of her.

“Hold here.” He won’t break his own rule and go down the hall alone but maybe he can get a closer look.

He darts to the opposite wall and cranes his neck. He can’t see far past the bend but the shadows are clearer on the wall. There are _things_ down there. Moving, living beings. He steps forward, careful not to make any noise and to stay in his team’s sight. He still can’t see anything. They’ll have to move forward together.

He motions them over to his side and they follow him, step after slow step. Nate adjusts his grip, tightening his sweating hands on his gun. The shadows are still there, every time the hall fills with light, and the path is straightening. 

Nate takes his last two steps around the bend quick and raises his gun. 

There’s nothing— _no one_ —there.

But there is a T intersection at the end of the hall only a few feet away. He dashes towards it, swinging his gun left then right. Both sides are empty.

Nate leans against the wall as his team catches up. Where did they go? Was there anything really there or is his mind playing tricks on him? No, it’s not his mind. It’s _them._ This _ship._ The beings are in here, toying with him and his team.

The thought fuels him with anger. “Let’s go.” He leads them down the right hallway with renewed energy. He’s going to find them, if only just for spite. Each step he takes is faster, each turn more instinctive than the last. He’s poised to shoot. If they show themselves he’ll be ready. 

The maze of hallways makes less and less sense the further they go. There are no doors or panels, nothing but metal halls. The halls curve left and right and sometimes he’s sure they’re going in circles, but it’s impossible to tell. Sometimes it’s a couple metres until the next turn, sometimes the halls stretch for so long he can’t see the end. But they all end, and a new one always begins. 

The anger fades with each step and panic starts to root in his chest beside his racing heart. What if there’s no way out? If they were let in maybe they have to be let out. Would the aliens be merciful enough to let their enemies go? Or maybe this is a trap that they walked right into and the ship isn’t dead at all. It could take off any minute, carrying them into space never to see home again. 

No. _Focus._ He can’t think like that or he’ll go insane imagining all the possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. 

He pauses before the next turn and takes a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to stave off the fear but the few seconds of rest are welcome. How much longer will they run around this forsaken ship? His gun is heavier now than when they came in and his energy leaches out with every bead of sweat.

Nate glances back at his team and—

“What the _fuck?_ ”

—only Brad and Ray are behind him.

“Where the fuck did they go?”

They share a confused glance. “You told them to go a different way, sir,” Brad says slowly. He looks like he’s questioning Nate’s sanity, and maybe Nate should be questioning it too.

“I never said— _damn it_.” This fucking ship. He told them to stay together; he never would have ordered Poke, Bryan and Walt to go off on their own. It was this damn ship, showing them whatever the aliens wanted them to see. It made the rest of his team see him give an order he never gave. It wants to split them up.

“Oh.” The realization dawns on Brad and he grimaces. There’s a lingering edge of guilt on his face.

It’s not his or anyone’s fault but they should have expected something like this to happen. How do they overcome an obstacle like this? They can’t question every command he gives and he can’t tell them not to trust any of their senses.

Ray glances between them and his face falls. “Oh _shit_. That wasn’t you.”

“No. We can’t trust this ship or anything inside it.” He sighs, short and defeated, and watches the light fade low over the remaining two members of his team. “Why did we split up? There must’ve been a reason.”

“We heard something,” Brad answers. “Crying. We thought it was Crawford.”

“How long ago?”

The face of Ray’s watch lights up digital green in the few seconds of darkness. “About twenty minutes,” he says.

Nate bites his lip. They could try to look for the other half of their team but the most logical choice is to keep going forward—whatever forward is. They’ve been separated for too long to have any idea which way the others went, and if they’re going around in circles they might be reunited anyway. 

He shakes his head. “It’s been too long to go back, they could be anywhere. We need to keep going.” He can tell they both agree.

“Poke will keep them together,” Brad says with a reassuring nod. Nate wants to believe him but the odds are stacked against them.

“I hope so. Come on.”

They continue.

Left.

Right.

Around the bend.

Straight.

Right.

Straight.

Left.

There’s no strategy, if there ever was one. At each turn Nate takes a second to decide which way to go. More than once he thinks they’ve come back to where they started but every hall looks the same. Between the moments of darkness as the lights cycle off and on they see the same thing—nothing. Just empty hallway after empty hallway.

_Where are they hiding?_

They come to the first four way intersection and Nate isn’t sure what it means. Are they closer to the center of the ship? Does it mean anything at all? Each hallway stretches so far into the distance he can’t see how they end.

The radio crackles before he can decide which way to go.

_“Is anyone out there—please! Please help me!”_

A chill slithers down the back of his neck. It’s Mary Crawford’s voice. He knows she doesn’t have a radio because Beers wouldn’t have given her one, but that isn’t the only thing that makes his skin crawl. The last time they thought they heard her voice half of the team went missing.

“Is that Crawford? Maybe she’s close!” Ray is beside him, looking down each hallway as if she’s going to appear at any moment.

Nate looks over his shoulder with dread pooling in his gut.

The hallway brightens to reveal—

Nothing. Brad is gone. Behind them is only an empty hallway glowing at the seams. 

“Ray, look.” 

“What—? _Fuck_!” Ray slams a hand against the wall. The sweaty handprint he leaves melts into the surface like the ship is keeping record of its trespassers. “ _Fuck,_ he was _right there_. Why does this keep happening?”

“I don’t know.”

Ray’s face twists with worry. “Let’s go back and find him.”

“Back where, Ray?” He wishes he had answers for Ray but they’re equally clueless here. All he knows is that they’re on their own now and so is Brad. “He disappeared. We don’t know if he’s behind us, ahead of us, or right in front of us and we just can’t see him.”

Ray obviously wants to argue but he doesn’t, just clamps his mouth shut in a bitter grimace. He knows Nate is right. He’s frustrated, and scared, and Nate has no reassurances left to give. Instead he leaves their next choice up to Ray. “Which way do you want to go?”

“They’re all the fucking same,” Ray mutters. Nate waits for him to make a choice; time is their only abundancy. “Left, I guess,” he finally says.

“Alright. Let’s move, I’ll stay behind you.”

“Will you?” Ray says darkly. He starts down the hallway but Nate stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Would this help? So you know I’m still here?”

Ray looks at the hand on his shoulder and nods solemnly.

“Okay.” It’s for more than just Ray’s peace of mind. Nate doesn’t want to find himself alone either the next time the lights cycle into darkness or they hear the disembodied voice of Mary Crawford. So with his hand on Ray’s shoulder they begin their trek down the narrow hall with no end in sight. 

At first the headache is only a dull annoyance but as they walk it mutates into a piercing pain ringing through his skull. Nate’s tempted to ask if Ray feels it too but he’s afraid of the answer. It might be nothing—he is dehydrated, terrified, and exhausted after all—or it could be the ship telling him he doesn’t belong here. Killing him slowly. If that’s the case he doesn’t want to know.

Ray stops so suddenly that Nate bumps into him. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks. He looks past Ray but as usual there’s nothing ahead.

“We haven’t turned since we lost Brad. That was almost an hour ago.”

Nate glances back down the hall, one straight path narrowing into the distance. “That can’t be right,” he says, but he knows it’s true. They’re trapped in this endless hall. The thought that they’ll walk until they drop dead festers in the back of his mind, and it’s getting harder to ignore.

“It’s four in the morning.” Ray looks like the weight of a world long gone rests on his shoulders. His hold on his gun is weary and his eyes are bloodshot red with exhaustion. He’s a cruel reflection of the hopelessness growing in Nate.

“Let’s stop for a minute,” Nate says. A break would do them both some good. He checks the radio again but there’s still no answer from the world beyond these walls.

Ray crumples to the floor like someone snipped the invisible strings holding him up and tosses his helmet aside. Nate sits in front of him and removes his own, running a hand over his sweat drenched hair. He watches the wave of light flow over them and down the corridor behind Ray. It’s still hypnotic, still inviting them further in, only now they know the truth. Whatever is in this ship is hiding, fighting with mind games instead of force. 

And for what purpose? What’s their plan? They’ve been in here for over six hours and haven’t found anything—no Crawford, no beings, and no way out. They’ve lost most of their team and they have nothing to show for it. Maybe there is no plan. Maybe this is all just a game to the aliens. They’ve been in control the entire time and their only objective is terror.

“Should we try getting some sleep?” Ray asks. He looks half asleep already, head propped on his hand and blinking slowly.

“I don’t want to sleep.”

Ray sees straight through the lie and raises his eyebrows.

“Well, I do,” Nate says, “but I don’t want to wake up and find myself alone.” It’s a more honest answer than he should give and it surprises Ray, but he has no strength left for optimism. If there's a way out of here he can't see it.

"Neither do I," Ray says quietly.

"Tell me about Allie. I'll believe anything at this point."

"Oh, I thought you might've guessed by now. She's part alien."

His answer doesn’t shock Nate, not really. In retrospect it even makes sense. These beings came to save her. Wakeman said she was powerful. She seemed to know things she shouldn't. Everything adds up and Nate's seen enough now to believe it. "Huh. She told you that?"

Ray rubs the back of his neck. "I guessed, actually, and she said she's _part them_."

"You asked a nine year old girl if she was an alien?" On second thought Nate doesn’t know why he’s surprised—of course that’s something Ray would do. 

Ray scoffs, half smiling in the fading light, and Nate drinks in the sight of it before it's washed away in the momentary darkness. It's the first smile he's seen since they entered the ship. It could be the last one he ever sees.

"Not like that," he says. "I heard her last name was Clarke so I asked if she was related to Tom Clarke. Have you heard of him?”

“No.”

“He's an author. For years he wrote books debunking alien sightings but then he started writing books that _proved_ them. Rumor says it’s because he has a half alien brother and Allie said he's her mom's uncle."

"So the half alien is her grandfather," Nate concludes.

"Bingo."

"Wow." Allie was right—he wouldn't have believed her if she had told him the day they first arrived. He can barely wrap his head around it now even with all the evidence. "And of course you've read his books."

"I read everything," Ray says with a shrug. "But come on, you must've known there was something special about her. She knew all sorts of shit about me that I've never told anyone."

That piques Nate's curiosity. Ray is an open book most of the time so he wonders what conversations they had, what Allie told him about the most secret parts of himself. He ignores the childish urge to ask _like what?_ and tries to remember what Allie said, but the pain rattling through his head makes it a challenge. 

"I knew she was different. I've never met a kid like her before. She told me I did my best, and I—" _always will._ Did she know what was going to happen? It’s so obvious now, as if her final words to him were a good luck wish.

“And what?” Ray prompts.

“And I always will,” he finishes. His eyes meet Ray’s as he processes the realization. “She knew something was going to happen.” Maybe not every detail but her intuition told her something. Did she know if this would be his last mission? He’s not sure if he would’ve wanted her to tell him. 

What would he have done differently if he knew this was going to happen? Maybe he would have started a bucket list. He would’ve made more time to see friends and family. It's more of a curse than a blessing that he has this time to reflect. He can only see everything he should've done and everything he’ll miss out on if he doesn’t make it home.

“She’s not wrong. You’ve always done your best for us.”

_And look where I got us,_ Nate doesn’t say. He doesn’t need to say it because Ray can only be thinking the same thing. His eyes are locked on Nate like he’s trying to decipher a puzzle. It’s unnerving. “What?” Nate says.

“I want to ask you something really stupid, because we’re not getting out of here so...fuck it.”

A few hours ago Nate might’ve told him not to talk like that, not to lose hope, but it doesn’t matter now. He’s probably right. No, Nate’s more curious because no one’s ever looked at him the indescribable way Ray is looking at him. “Ask me anything you want,” he says, and means every word. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Nate doesn’t breathe. He blinks once, twice, but Ray is still sitting there watching, completely unapologetic. _Oh,_ he thinks, _that kind of stupid._ Of all the possible questions he could’ve asked this one doesn’t even touch Nate’s expectations. 

He huffs a laugh in disbelief and finally breathes again. He doesn’t bother asking if Ray is serious—the answer is written on his face. As any good Marine would he waits patiently and Nate has to look away, feeling oddly flustered. 

What shocks him more than the question is his own reaction. He hasn’t even said no yet. He could blame it on the headache but he’s never been that good at lying to himself. No, he’s _actually_ thinking about it—what it would be like to kiss Ray, to seize the last opportunity for intimacy that he may ever have. 

So instead of the answer he should give, what he says is, “Alright.”

Despite asking the question Ray clearly doesn’t expect permission. His mouth falls open in awe. “I knew it was a long shot but _holy shit_ ,” he whispers in one rushed breath, and for a moment they’re both deer in each other’s headlights. 

“Like you said.” Nate is sure he’s going crazy and there are more than enough reasons for it, but the primary cause is the way Ray looks at him. “Fuck it.”

It’s both an eternity and a single second before Ray closes the distance between them. The flustered feeling in Nate’s chest grows when he feels Ray’s breath on his face. He can’t remember the last time someone was in his space like this, just a breath away. The first touch of Ray’s lips is gentle, almost _too_ gentle, but it’s so foreign that something in him short circuits anyway, erasing every thought from his mind. A warm palm cups his jaw and then he’s really kissing Nate, and Nate can’t help but return the kiss. The sensation sends lightning through him as a vivid reminder that he’s still here, still alive and breathing and _human_ and nothing can take that away from him. They’re sharing in an act of rebellion against such a hopeless place. 

They pull apart. Ray’s hand on his face falls to his thigh, mirroring the other where he leans on Nate for balance, but otherwise he doesn’t move. 

“That…” Nate starts, but he doesn’t know what to say, what to do. The thoughts in his head are wisps of smoke and he can’t hold onto one long enough to figure out what he’s feeling. He looks at Ray’s hands on his thighs and his collar damp with sweat, but he can’t bring his eyes any higher Ray’s mouth.

“Nate.” Ray’s tone is urgent and the use of his first name echoes with ominous warning. His fingers squeeze Nate’s thighs hard enough to bruise. “There’s something coming.”

Dread floods through Nate's veins ice cold. He picks up his gun and stands in front of Ray, aiming down the hall.

There’s a shape moving in the distance. It’s too far too tell what it is. He watches the blurs of movement carefully and doesn’t let himself hope. There’s no way it’s any of his team. The shape is moving towards them, then it’s not just one but two, then four, then they’re countless.

“ _Oh my god_ ," Nate whispers. He can’t breathe his chest is so tight as he watches, frozen in horror.

They're not hiding anymore. The aliens are crawling on their hands and feet, swarming over the walls and ceiling like roaches. Their short bodies are humanoid with skinny limbs and huge heads consumed by soulless black eyes. They’re still coming— _they’re not slowing down_ —

Nate fires round after round into the horde. They may not have enough ammunition to stop all of them but maybe he and Ray can scare them off. _Dead or alive_ the general said. 

They don’t stop. They don’t fall. It’s like he’s not even firing at all. 

“Sir, there’s a door!”

“What?” They need to run, they have to run, but the closest alien is only a couple metres away and Nate can’t look away from its eyes. They’re two black holes, dragging him into their gravity with promises of untold knowledge. The longer he looks the more he can see in the depths, blurs of motion that turn into memories— _Nate’s memories_ —and he watches an image of himself getting older until it’s a reflection of this very moment. Present morphs into future and the image in the alien’s eyes moves again. He sees himself taking steps he’s never taken; it’s going to show him how this will end, _how he’s going to die_. The being reaches for Nate with a spidery three fingered hand—

A hand— _a human hand_ —grabs his arm, shaking him from the trance of the alien’s eyes. “Come on!”

They run, and Nate doesn’t look back.

Before the hallway looked endless but now there’s a wooden door that’s completely out of place amongst the sleek metal. Maybe it’s a good sign. Maybe beyond the door is home. 

“It’s—opening—!” Ray pants. The door is swinging open by itself revealing empty white space beyond its frame. 

They’re in the final stretch—

Ten feet—

_Two more steps_ —

Ray disappears into white and Nate follows him through, falling into nothing.

He wakes with a sudden start and everything is bright.

The dirt beneath his cheek is warm and golden with sunlight. He’s lying outside in the desert. Nate clutches his head with a groan. His skull is on fire, splitting with each clap of thunder behind his eyes. Underneath the pain there are only distant fragments of memory. Water. Metal. Fear. Running. A kiss. Falling, then nothing. 

He rubs the grains of dirt between his fingers. Thin, fine powder, like the deserts he fought in and the holes he’s slept in. He thinks he knows this country. _What country?_ Where is he? There’s dust in his hair, in his eyes, and when he breathes deep the smell of death clings in his nose. _Iraq._ It was a fever dream, a nightmare, and he never left Iraq. He died in Iraq. _No._ That can’t be right. Between the pain and the dust and the sandpaper choking his throat he can’t be sure.

He pushes his weary body to his feet and follows the thick stench of blood. He stumbles a couple of steps and the sight on the ground before him brings him back to his knees.

The dirt is painted red with massive pools of blood from five dead men. When he looks at their faces every lost memory floods back to him. _Oh god, his team._

They’re dead.

Walt.

Poke.

Brad.

Tim.

And Ray.

They’re all dead.

_No they can’t be please no no no no please no_

Five empty pairs of eyes stare skywards with trails of blood leaking from the corners like tears. Rivers of red stream from their ears, noses and mouths. They alone remain the carnage of some unknown battle. A battle Nate missed.

_This is all my fault._

They wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. He led them to their deaths. _He killed them_. 

He remembers now. Ray kissed him. Ray made him feel like everything was going to be alright. And he let Ray down. He let them all down.

Everything goes blurry when the rain comes and darkens the ground beneath him with heavy drops, except it’s not rain but _tears_ falling from his cheeks. It can’t be rain, it could never be rain, because he looks up and there’s no sky, only an expanse of white. He’ll never see the sky again.

_Why is he here?_

_Curious,_ says a voice in the back of his mind. He wishes it was someone, anyone, next to him talking. He doesn’t want to be alone— _god how he doesn’t want to be alone_. Not here, at the end of it all. 

_You were curious._

_You wanted to see._

_You wanted to know._

It’s true. He remembers the feeling, somewhere, some time ago, a long time ago. Curiosity. He tried to bury it in the mission but it burned bright and deep beneath his fear. He wanted to see the ship, see beings from another world. He was curious and this is what he gets for it. What he deserves. _Curious. Selfish. Stupid_. The truth cuts his soul razor sharp.

He falls to the ground, too dizzy and weak to stay upright. 

_—he’s a child, losing his balance, falling into the sandbox in the backyard—toys, bright red and yellow plastic, dump trucks and dinky cars, swings creaking behind him, a voice asking if he’s alright, his sister’s long blonde hair glowing in the sun in front of his eyes—_

_—he’s in California, a deep splash sounding behind him, diving into the water, the toes of his boots digging into heavy wet sand, a wetsuit, the heat on his face, arms, the back of his neck—_

_—he’s at war, gun in his hands, radio crackling, static, the zip of a bullet passing a few feet from his head, sleeping in holes, flash and fire, running, trying, helping, hurting, obeying, failing—_

_—failing—_

_He failed._

_He had tried and failed._

He hears a voice. Outside his mind, breathed into his ear, and the faintest brush of hair on his face. 

“You can come home now,” she whispers. 

A buzzing grows louder around his head and the ground beneath him fades away. He’s only a weightless spirit, floating through a sea of white. 


	6. After Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return to Earth is nothing like Nate expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one! We're getting closer to the end now—next chapter is written, currently in editing, then the last chapter will be more of an epilogue. Hope everyone enjoys this one!

The pain is familiar this time. Nate welcomes it. Deserves it. The cocoon of pressure squeezes his body so tight he couldn’t move a muscle if he tried. He doesn’t try. This is either the beginning or the end and when the agony stops he’ll know which one. 

Finally— _finally_ —the invisible shackles break. He’s free.

He gulps for air like a drowning man. One by one his senses return to life—touch, sound, then sight. Hard terrain beneath his palms, footsteps reverberating through the ground, distant voices shouting, darkness and light. His shadow is one long blur ahead of him, outlined by white light. He looks back and watches the light fade from the ship as it closes, leaving him bathed in only the glow of the moon. 

“LT!” Two pairs of hands help Nate to his feet. He looks up at their faces and feels so light he could float away. 

“Walt, Poke, it’s good to see you.” It’s the understatement of the century. He’s never known relief like this before—this shaky, all consuming rush at the sight of their faces. Brad and Doc Bryan are coming up behind them looking no worse for wear than when they entered the ship. The last time he saw them they were sprawled on the ground with broken bodies and empty eyes, but they’re here, _they’re okay, they’re alive_. All except—”Ray?”

Brad shakes his head as he answers, “Not back yet, sir.”

“Won’t be long now, sir,” Walt says. His eyes flicker to the ship every few seconds and his hands twitch restlessly. “I was the first out only a couple minutes ago.”

“A couple minutes?” he echoes. What are the odds that they would all come back within the span of a couple minutes? Not only that, it should be early dawn but the stars are still glittering as bright as when they went in. “What time is it?”

The last time he checked his watch inside the ship it read 05:27 but now it shows—

“2300, sir,” Poke says with a knowing grimace.

Nate’s breath is lost to the shockwave that strikes him. “Thirteen minutes?” he manages. “I thought…”

“So did we, sir,” Bryan says, glancing darkly towards the craft.

That would explain why he doesn’t feel like he’s been wandering the ship for hours. He hasn’t been. Everything he felt inside the craft was all in his head and melted away the instant he returned to Earth. Was any of it real? 

What about that kiss?

“Lieutenant!” The general calls, and Nate steels himself for the imminent interrogation. It won’t be pretty seeing as they’ve all come out empty handed. Beers walks towards them with Wakeman at his side and a medic trailing behind. “We lose contact then you’re strolling out fifteen minutes later? What the hell happened?”

“Time is different in there, sir. We thought we were in there for hours,” he says. “My team got separated and we each carried out the mission on our own to the best of our abilities.” It sounds so easy, straightforward, when he says it like that. It was anything but. 

“What did you find?” Beers demands. 

“I haven’t taken reports from my men yet but I saw them, sir. The aliens.” He can still see them in his mind, all over the walls, the ceiling, coming for him. And those terrifying black eyes. 

“And?”

“I shot them,” Nate says simply. “They didn’t die.”

Each man stills at his words. Even the general looks taken by surprise.

“How many did you see?” Wakeman asks.

“Dozens.”

“Does that line up with your research?” Beers asks him.

The deep frown furrowing the scientist’s face gives away his answer before he says, “No. The craft at Roswell only had five crew and this one isn’t much bigger.” To Nate he asks, “Did you see Mary?”

“No,” Nate says, and doesn’t feel the least bit sorry for him. Or for Mary. She was the only one who had a choice and she dived into the craft the first chance she got. Her fate is her own fault. “Did any of you?” he asks his men.

They shake their heads.

“She knew the risk she was taking,” Nate adds, just for spite. Wakeman twitches but doesn’t say anything, just glares from behind his glasses.

“Well,” Beers says, “while you were in there we found Allie’s parents trying to sneak past the perimeter. They’re in the shed...” His words traill off as he looks past Nate to the craft. Nate feels his stomach turn to lead. He’s going to send them in again. _Let him try._ There’s no way in hell Nate is letting any of his marines step foot in that craft again.

A whirring noise fills the silence.

“LT, look!” Walt says.

Dozens of lights flicker madly across the surface of the craft—not as dead as they thought, then. An ominous groaning rings out into the air. The marines still around the ship step back from their posts with uncertainty. All at once Nate can see what’s about to happen as if he had continued staring into those alien eyes, watching images of the future flash before him. 

He rounds on the general. “One of my Marines is still in there.”

Beers has a hand on his radio but he hasn’t lifted it yet. He isn’t giving any orders. “What do you expect me to do, lieutenant? We used everything we had taking it down the first time.”

_Fuck._ Nate doesn’t think. He runs, ignoring the general’s shouting. He doesn’t have a plan beyond hoping the ship will let him in again, or let Ray out. With another sinister groan the craft lifts itself into the air. Nate stops dead and his heart anchors itself into the dirt. 

It’s leaving and Ray is still inside. 

He watches, completely helpless, as the craft climbs higher and higher. There’s no sign of damage from the artillery on the underside of the ship. Just like when he shot the beings inside, it’s like they didn’t fire anything at all. They craft came down because they let it. They wanted to appear powerless.

It begins to spin slowly across the sky until it’s hovering over the farmhouse. That’s when he remembers the reason any of this is happening. _Allie._

A beam of ethereal light bursts from the center of the ship and shoots to the ground, surrounding the farmhouse in its glow. It shines with subtle ripples, like it’s more than just light but a field of energy. The ground trembles violently beneath Nate’s feet and the house rips free from its foundation. It floats upward through the beam and chunks of debris fall to the ground as it ascends. The house is not important—it’s the girl inside that matters. 

When the house nears the disc, the beam retracts from the ground and pulls it inside in one final flash of light. They have what they came for. The lights burn a blinding white then the craft streaks through the sky into oblivion.

It’s gone.

Ray is _gone._

No, this is—this is a dream. It can’t be, he _can’t_ be—

He closes his eyes and everything is the same when he opens them again. This is Earth. Everything they see here is real. The craft is gone and Ray is gone with it. There’s nothing else to believe.

Nate swallows against the grief rising in his throat. He hears the footsteps of marines returning from their posts and the hushed voices that pass through the group, but he doesn’t look at any of them. Guilt stings like a fresh cut in his mind. He failed Ray and because of that he failed them all. He was supposed to lead them through this mission and instead they’re mourning.

This was supposed to be easy. None of it is supposed to be _real._ It wouldn’t hurt any less if they lost Ray in combat but at least it would make sense. Getting shot by an enemy bullet or blasted by artillery would make sense. It would be something they could tell his family. But this? This is _bullshit._ Against impossible odds an alien craft lands on Earth then all the men who go in make it out successfully except one? None of it makes sense.

What’s worse still is that Ray might still be alive. They’ll never know because he’s light years away. The beings have what they want so there’s no chance in hell they’ll come back to drop off a stowaway. It’s almost kinder to hope he’s dead. 

Nate’s memory of the kiss darkens with regret. If nothing else, at least he gave Ray that one last moment before he was taken.


	7. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It might be time for Nate to start believing in miracles, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but I hope all you lovely readers enjoy. This was originally part of one bigger chapter but it felt like its own moment so I wanted to separate it. As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated!

“Nate?”

“Tell them to get some rest,” Nate hears himself say in a hollow voice. They’ll be leaving in the morning; General Beers told him so when he offered Nate his somber condolences. Nate just nodded and Beers took the hint and left him alone with his remorse. It’ll be worse in the morning. At night they could almost convince themselves it was just a bad dream but the light of dawn will shatter the illusion. The mission is over and they’re going home one man short. 

Mike claps him once on the shoulder before he goes, and it’s a gesture so fatherly Nate can’t help thinking of home. The fear of never seeing his family again is always at the back of his mind during a mission and he wondered what they would be told if he never made it out of the ship. They would never know the truth. Just as Ray’s family won’t know the truth. Maybe it’s best that way.

Once the rest of the platoon has dispersed Mike returns to his side. “You should turn in too.”

“I will,” he promises, but not just yet. Someone has to make sure Brad doesn’t stay up all night and only a direct order might do the job. A few minutes after the craft left he walked away from the group to stand alone by the dirt road. He’s still there, an unmoving statue in the night facing away from the camp. Poke had taken a few steps in his direction before he thought better of it, and everyone else left him alone. 

Mike returns to the platoon. Nate takes a deep breath before walking towards the road to stand next to Brad. Brad doesn’t break his staring contest with the nothingness of rural North Dakota but his head shifts slightly in Nate’s direction. 

“I’m sorry,” Nate says, hating the words the second they leave his mouth. It’s nowhere near enough for someone who just lost one of his best friends. “And I’m sorry that’s all I’ve got.”

“You didn’t know what would happen.”

“No, I didn’t,” Nate agrees quietly and leaves it at that. Words are too small for the guilt that weighs on his thoughts now, _should haves_ and _could haves_ that might have saved Ray. He’ll drive himself crazy by morning thinking of things he could have done but he can’t stop the regret. He knows he won’t be sleeping tonight. 

“You were last to see him, right?” Brad finally looks at him. There’s a small frown on his face but otherwise no visible trace of grief. Nate can’t tell if it’s expertly hidden or if the events of the evening haven’t sunk in as real yet. Perhaps it’s a bit of both. “What happened?”

Nate carefully recounts what happened after he and Ray were separated from Brad. The memory of the kiss lurks in every hesitation he makes and he’s paranoid Brad can hear that he’s not saying something. If he can he doesn’t mention it. Nate can imagine confiding in Brad eventually but right now he wants to keep that memory in the dark like buried treasure, and hope that somewhere among the stars Ray is cherishing it too. 

The frown doesn’t leave Brad’s face as he listens. He doesn’t speak when Nate is finished, just nods like he’s trying to figure out how it all went wrong. 

“Get some sleep, Brad.” There’s no point trying to understand what happened. They can only continue to do their jobs as best they can, for Ray if nothing else. “I can make that an order.”

“No need, sir.” He nods once and walks back to the camp.

Nate turns to follow him but something catches his eye when he glances at the space where the craft was. He walks closer and finds two helmets on the ground, a few feet apart. Even in the dark he can tell one is his own when he picks them up, which means the other must belong to Ray. 

But what are they doing here? They took off their helmets in the craft and left them behind when the aliens came. Why would the aliens bother to cast out the helmets from the craft but still take Ray and Mary?

He feels a cold prickling at the back of his neck, like someone is watching him, but there’s no one around. A couple of guards linger around the camp but most of the men have turned in for the night now that there’s nothing to wait for. Out here it’s only him and the darkness. 

Two pinpricks of light appear near the ground, like a couple of distant stars taken straight out of the sky. He rubs his eyes and blinks twice, and they’re still there. They grow larger into shining orbs and he’s caught between wanting to move closer and wanting to run as far away as he can. They flash bright once then fizzle into nothing, and two figures remain in the darkness they leave behind. 

Nate’s heart jumps and the helmets fall from his hands. “ _Ray_.”

_He’s back he’s okay he’s alive thank god—_

At the sound of his name Ray looks up. “LT—?” He touches the ground reverently. “Is this real? Am I really out? Shit, I thought I was—”

Nate kneels next to him and grasps his shoulder. Ray is there, solid and real beneath his hand. Maybe it’s time he started believing in miracles, too. “Are you hurt?”

Ray shakes his head and blinks until the dazed look on his face disappears. “Where is everyone? The other guys—?”

“Everyone got out, they’re fine,” Nate assures him. “The ship left. We thought you were gone.”

“Oh.” Ray looks around, behind him and then towards the camp where the farmhouse was. “Allie?”

“They took her. Beamed her up.” The relief that Ray is safe makes him feel almost giddy and Nate can’t help the small smile that tugs at his face. “You should’ve seen it, it was like something out of a movie.”

Ray manages a smile of his own, and that’s when Nate realizes his hand is still on Ray’s shoulder. He lets it fall between them and tries not to think of the moment they shared on the craft. 

He isn’t successful at all. 

Mary Crawford stops muttering under her breath and looks up, as if she’s just noticed they’re next to her. She’s curled into a ball on the ground, arms around her knees as she trembles. “The girl’s gone?” Nate nods, and she looks away again. “Good.”

At Nate’s questioning look, Ray shrugs. “I found her in the ship. That’s the last thing I remember. She kept saying ‘all your memories and all your fears’, that’s what they show you.”

“And your future?” Nate wonders. He witnessed all of them on the ship—his memories, his deepest fears, and if he stayed long enough he would have seen his future too. With Allie gone, Crawford is one of the few people who could probably explain what he saw on the craft. 

Crawford’s head snaps up. “What did you see?” she demands, sounding more like herself. “Did you see your own death? Did you watch yourself die?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re _lucky_ ,” she spits. “I’ve seen what that knowledge can do.” She pushes herself off the ground and stalks toward the camp, wrapping her arms tight around herself. 

It’s just the two of them now, alone in the dark. Alone like they haven’t been since they were on the craft, since Ray kissed him. The question resurfaces in Nate’s mind—was it real? He could solve the mystery right now by asking Ray, but the thought of doing so makes him jittery with nerves. Because what if did really happen?

If Ray is thinking about it too, Nate can’t tell. “You saw your future?” he asks.

“Almost,” Nate says. And he’s glad he didn’t. The images he saw in the alien’s eyes both terrified and fascinated him, but for once he’s inclined to believe Mary Crawford. If he saw his own future up until he died, the knowledge would haunt every waking moment of his life. His life would no longer be his own.

Nate stands and offers a hand to help Ray up. “Come on, they’ll be happy to see you.”


	8. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is real is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Huge thank you to DeadCaffeineJunkie for being so lovely in the comments on the last chapter, this chapter was definitely finished faster because of you! As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated :)

The mission is over, and not a moment too soon in Nate’s opinion. 

They’re on their way back to Fort Ash, and soon they’ll be on a flight home. Back to reality. They’ll be returning home with stories that will stay with them for the rest of their lives. Very few people could claim they saw an alien spacecraft and actually be telling the truth, and even fewer could say they had been inside one. The only people who could were in the caravan behind the humvee Nate is driving. 

Already the journey back is different. At the general’s request Nate is driving his humvee—Beers is behind Nate with Lisa, Allie’s mother, sitting next to him, and Allie’s father Charlie in the front passenger seat. It feels strange not to have Mike by his side, or Q-Tip in the back rapping out a verse or two. His platoon was in high spirits when they left, as they should be after everyone made it out of the craft okay, and Nate amuses himself imagining how Beers might react to the impromptu singing that happens so often in his platoon.

But then again, the general has been uncharacteristically agreeable this morning.Nate would brush it off as the man being relieved the mission is over if it wasn’t for Lisa. While Charlie has been glaring daggers at everyone except her, she’s been staring at General Beers with something like awe. She almost looks _happy_ , not the grieving mother she’s supposed to be at all. 

And Charlie is up to something. In his peripheral vision, Nate can see his head turning and his ziptied hands twitching on his thighs. There’s only one thing he could be looking at—Nate’s gun. 

Nate brakes hard. They come to a stop at a junction where the dirt road splits two ways. He’s faster than Charlie, and catches the man’s hands before he can grab the gun. Charlie gives him a look of pure poison as he struggles against Nate’s grip, but Nate doesn’t let go. He’ll have to tie his hands to the seat or the door—

“Charlie,” someone says. 

It’s not Lisa. It’s not General Beers.

_It can’t be._

Nate looks around—and there she is. 

Allie is sitting in the backseat where Beers was, her seatbelt on like she’s been there the entire time. Lisa gasps and leans over to throw her arms around her daughter. _She knew._ She knew Allie was there. But how—?

Allie looks like she’s been awake for weeks. Deep rings beneath her eyes cut into her ghostly pale cheeks, and it takes all of her strength to return her mother’s embrace.

All of Charlie’s fight leaves him and he gazes at his daughter in awe. “Allie,” he whispers.

“I don’t know what you did, honey, but you sure did it,” Lisa says, stroking the hair away from her daughter’s face.

“They wanted to use me to make the ship come down,” Allie tells them. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes. “I thought if I could make them think that I’d gone, that I’d been taken, they would stop looking for me and everything could go back to the way it was.”

Instantly Nate understands.

_She never left._

_They can make you see things that aren’t there._

_Allie is part alien._

Everything from the last twelve hours plays in Nate’s mind with the light of this knowledge, as if filmed from a different perspective. The lights in the sky, the craft, the beings—none of it was real. And not only that—all of the vehicles he thought were following them have now disappeared. It was all part of the illusions that Allie put in their heads. 

He remembers there was a voice in the craft, right before he got out, telling him he could come home. It was her. Whispering into his mind.

“It was—it was all you? The craft...everything we saw…?”

Allie nods weakly.

“But...how did you they weren’t going to come?” he asks. 

“Mary Crawford showed me something.” Allie frowns and wrings her hands together. “It was like a piece of metal. She told me her grandfather found it in 1947 at a UFO crash in New Mexico.”

“Roswell?”

She nods. “That’s where it all started. The metal had weird symbols on it, but I could read them. It was like a diary of everything that’s happened since then. When I looked at it, I just knew what I had to do.”

Her tears finally start to fall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just thought it would be easier to get away if everyone was scared. I always thought when people are scared of something they just want it to go away.”

Nate feels his heart splinter in his chest. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t deserve any of this heartache. She looked into his head, his heart, his soul, and used what she found to show him his deepest fears, but she did all of it because she was scared. She was fighting for herself and her family. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says again, “for making everyone sad about Ray.” She wipes at her cheek but it’s a wasted effort; her tears don’t stop. “It was so hard and I messed up. I made everyone think the ship was gone before they got out, so I had to think of some way to get them back.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay, don’t—” A swell of sorrow steals Nate’s voice. He doesn’t know how to comfort her. She’s so brave—braver than he could ever be, and she showed him things he never would’ve learned without her. About his world, his life, himself. The ship wasn’t real but she is, and she’s incredible. 

Allie sighs. She sounds more world weary than any kid should be. “It doesn’t matter now though. I failed.”

“What? No,” Charlie protests. “You did great, sweetheart.”

She shakes her head. “They’ll figure it out. Miss Crawford is going to figure it out. And when she does they’ll come looking for me again.”

“Just because they’re looking doesn’t mean they’ll find you,” Charlie says.

“That’s right, Charlie’s right.” Lisa tilts her daughter’s chin up to look in her eyes. “We will _not_ let them take you again.”

Allie’s voice breaks on a whisper. “I’m scared.”

Dust stirs far down the road behind them. They’re here—for real this time. They’ve already deduced what happened, what’s _been_ happening all along. 

“They’re coming,” Charlie warns his family, directing their attention towards the back window. “Allie, can you…?”

The little girl nods, understanding his request. _She’s going to do something._ Nate will finally see her use her gift. She screws up her face in concentration, squeezing her eyes shut, then opens them. “Nothing’s happening,” she says, panic rising in her voice.

“She’s exhausted,” Lisa says, tugging her daughter closer.

One by one each desperate face turns towards Nate. Allie looks up at him last.

“Help us,” Charlie begs. “Please.”

“I—” The choice bears down on Nate like a speeding bullet. He knows what he should do—he should keep them under guard until the real General Beers arrives—but what he should do isn’t the right thing to do. This family has been traumatized enough. He doesn’t want to hold them here at gunpoint. He doesn’t want to be another source of their suffering, but if he gets caught helping them nothing will save him from the consequences. After everything he’s worked for can he risk it all now?

“I’ll let you go.” He wants Allie to be safe. He wants her to be a normal kid with a normal family, as much as they can.

“Thank you,” Lisa says. Their gratitude feels misplaced, and Nate just nods.

“You better hurry.” He cuts their ziptied hands free. “Ditch the truck as soon as you can outside town.” He gets out of the humvee to let Charlie in the driver’s seat.

“Nate,” Allie says. He ducks down to look at her through the backseat window. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” She’s a child on the run and she’s reassuring _him_. She really is something else. “Tell them I did something and we escaped. And Nate? The thing that happened that you want to be real—it was real.”

_Oh fuck._

She knows about the kiss.

But as shocked as he feels, he knows it makes sense. Of course she knows about it—she manifested the craft _from her mind_. She knows everything that happened inside it.

She adds, “Don’t make him wait too long, okay?”

Nate ignores Charlie and Lisa’s curious looks. “Okay,” he says. It’s just one word but it feels full of promises he doesn’t know if he can keep. It doesn’t matter anyway. She probably knows how he’s feeling.

Allie gives him a watery smile and Nate realizes this is probably the last time he’ll ever see her or her family. “Good luck,” he says.

“Thanks,” Charlie says. He nods once at Nate and shifts gears. They leave him behind in a cloud of dry dust. 

An unexpected feeling of calm washes over Nate. He feels still, at peace, in a way he hasn’t since he arrived in North Dakota, and even before that. It isn’t quite over yet—he still has to sell his lie to the general, but he believes what Allie said. _It’ll be okay_. He’s never believed that so completely before in his life.

He wonders if it’s some lingering effect of her abilities—maybe magic is a better word?—or if she actually knows the future. She could read minds and know someone’s past, as she demonstrated with that alien on the craft, so it was plausible she could see the future too. He wonders what she would say if he asked her.

When a couple squads from the National Guard pull up behind him, he doesn’t even have to act dazed. He’s so lost in thought the captain has to say, “Lieutenant,” twice before Nate realizes he’s there.

“What happened, lieutenant?”

“I don’t know,” he says. They must have an idea of what happened so Nate will give them what they expect and no more. “I was driving and the next thing I know I’m standing here and they’re gone down the road.” He gestures towards the road that Allie and her family didn’t take.

The captain nods. He orders one humvee to pursue the family and waves Nate into the other vehicle. “We’ll take you back to camp.”

The farmhouse cuts a stark shape across the cloudless sky and all of the rubble has disappeared. The property looks innocently abandoned, just like it had when they first arrived. Even though Nate expected it, it’s still unsettling to see it like nothing happened, to see something so unchanged when he feels radically changed. Everything happened only in their minds. 

Nate follows the captain up to Allie’s room where Beers is waiting with Crawford and Wakeman. The smirk on Mary’s face tells Nate that Allie guessed right—she figured it all out before anyone else.

Beers sighs when he sees Nate. He knows he isn’t getting good news. “So?”

Nate tells him the same story. “One minute I was driving, and the next I was standing there, and they were halfway down the road.” He isn’t nervous—Allie’s words keep him company. Nate has the advantage here. Beers doesn’t know him well and he already thinks he knows what happened. 

“Did you see the girl?”

“No,” he lies. “She looked like you.”

The general wipes a hand down his face and his shoulders drop. “Damn. Should’ve known something like this would happen. This whole thing has been a mess from the start. We’re going to regroup at Fort Ash and organize a search. I want them found by the end of the day.” He storms from the room, and everyone follows except for Mary.

“Lieutenant,” she says. Nate is at the door, the last to leave. “You helped her, didn’t you.”

Nate faces her. The smartest person in the room never was Beers or Wakeman. It was always her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The smirk is still glued on her face. “You do. I can either take that to the general or we could talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“If you had to help her that means she couldn’t save herself. She needs our help— _my_ help.”

Nate gives her a long hard look. She doesn’t fold under his stare but her smirk disappears. He doesn’t know much about her besides that she’s smart, dangerous, and knows how to get her way. But he doesn’t need to know what Allie knows about her to see there’s no altruism in her words. 

“No,” he says, “I don’t think she does.”

Nate heads downstairs and the click of her heels follow him. She brushes past him and bumps into Ray on her way out the front door. 

“Damn,” Ray says, rubbing his shoulder. “What’d I do to her?”

Nate shakes his head. “What’s up?”

“Engines running. We’re ready to go, for real this time.”

Nate nods. He gets the impression Ray wants to say more so he waits.

“I heard— _we_ heard—what happened. More or less. Crazy, right?” Ray’s eyes finally meet Nate’s instead of darting around him. “Did you—is Allie okay?”

Nate glances around. The house is empty.

“I’m not going to rat you out.”

“I know.” Nate would trust any member of his platoon with the truth but especially Ray. After what happened. _Don’t make him wait,_ Allie said. There aren’t many ways to interpret that. “She was tired,” he says quietly. That’s enough to answer Ray’s questions, spoken and unspoken. 

“I would’ve helped her too,” Ray says, equally quiet, and Nate doesn’t doubt him for a second. 

“Why did you kiss me?” The question falls from Nate’s mouth before he can stop it. He doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be, only that the question will rattle around in his head until he gets one. He doesn’t want to acknowledge that he could ask himself the same thing, but it’s true. If Ray fired the question right back, he would be at a loss for words. 

Nate watches Ray’s eyes go wide and his cheeks become engulfed in flame before he looks at his boots. He’s never seen Ray blush before; he’s notoriously difficult to embarrass. 

“Fuck,” Ray croaks, hiding his face with one hand. “I was hoping you forgot about that.”

“No such luck.”

“I—shit—I’m sorry—it was—”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The last thing he wants is for Ray to wish it didn’t happen. Not when he’s still thinking about it long after it had. 

Ray looks up. Too surprised to be embarrassed, his hand falls from his face. “I don’t?”

**__**_I did agree to it,_ Nate thinks, but he clamps down on the words before they can escape. He’s already said too much, he should be more careful. But the feeling in his chest, a seed of something small and new and ready to be sown, makes him want to throw care out the window and kiss Ray again. Right now. It’s harder to resist than it should be. 

“No,” he says, “but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to keep this between us.”

“No, yeah, of course, absolutely. Yes, sir.” Ray gives him a nervous, improper salute.

Nate gestures towards the door. “Let’s go before they leave without us.”

They head outside, and Nate doesn’t miss the last glance Ray gives him before he rejoins his team. Most of the vehicles are running but Beers is still about, conversing with the colonel. Nate takes his place in a humvee next to Mike, and soon enough they’re heading back to Fort Ash.

He’s quiet during the drive, thinking of the music he’ll face when he gets back to base. There will be questions. He’ll have to report every detail of the mission and hope that his superiors only see what happened as a failure on his part. General Beers believed him today but what if something—or Mary—changes his mind? What if Allie and her family are caught, and his actions don’t make a difference in the end? _It’ll be okay_. What’s done is done.

The worry fades to the back of his mind when his thoughts turn to Ray. 

There are three weeks left in his contract. Only three weeks and his worries will disappear; he’ll be out of the corps.

Not a long wait at all. 


End file.
